His smile turns boyish, a stark contradiction to the gruff man I’m accustomed to.
“And you look awfully good naked and on top of me.” Lifting, he kisses me once more. “But we should probably discuss what’s going on here. I know we mentioned it last night, but maybe you were right. Maybe it’s best if we have this conversation while I’m not inside of you.”
“Your dick didn’t hypnotize me into saying something I didn’t want to, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I guess I’m worried you might walk it back. The way we’ve tried to so many times before.”
“I’m not,” I tell him easily. “I’m in it. With you. I just need to figure out how this is going to workatwork. But I want this. I want you.”
“Okay.” He softly smiles. “We’ll keep it between us for now. Until we decide what we’re going to do.”
I nod in agreement. “Thank you.”
“Coffee?”
“Yeah. That sounds nice. I’ll make us some.”
When I move to peel myself off him, he tightens an arm around me, keeping me in place.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“I was asking if you wanted some, not if you’d get up and make me a cup.”
“I know, but I can do it.”
“Good for you. So can I.” He slips out from under me, flipping me onto my back and cradling my head until he rests it against a pillow. “Lie down. I’ve got it.”
Emmett stands from the bed, proud naked body on full display. Big, thick, and all man, walking around my bedroom without a shy bone in his body.
“How do you take yours?”
How do I take my coffee? I don’t know if I’ve ever had to tell someone else that. I don’t remember a time anyone has ever made me a cup in the morning, though it’s something I do for myself daily. I’m about to tell him I’ll take my coffee any way he wants to prepare it for me, even though I have a very specific order, simply because I’d be thankful for anything.
“Um,” I hesitate. “Splash of cream. A bit of brown sugar.”
I don’t tear my eyes off him as he bends to pull his boxer briefs back on. But that’s all he puts on his body.
“You got it.” He comes back to me, crouching down on the side of my bed. “And to make this clear, I don’t do things for you because I don’t think you can do them for yourself. I do them because I want to. And because you should know what it feels like to be taken care of.”
He kisses me one more time before he heads into my kitchen, which I have a perfect sightline to from my bed.
Emmett opens a couple of cupboards until he finds the mugs. He locates the brown sugar and the utensils. He opens my fridge like he’s done it a thousand times. And before he leaves the kitchen, he washes the spoon he used to stir my cup.
It’s a bit mesmerizing to watch him. He moves around my place with so much confidence, as if he innately belongs here. As if he fits seamlessly between these four walls.
Laying in sheets that smell of him, watching him treat my condo as his own, I realize that maybe he does. Maybe he belonged here all along. With me.
Those were my suspicions last night. As soon as he stepped off the elevator, he looked like he belonged. And that’s what this morning confirms.
It’s so simple, this coffee he hands me in bed. But when you go so long with no one else taking care of you, something as simple as a cup of coffee takes on a whole new meaning. I’m more grateful. More appreciative of the man he is. All because I went so long without him.
Emmett slips under the covers again and we drink our coffee together. We laze around for the morning, talking and touching until we run out of time.
He needs to change before heading to the field, so eventually, I take him home, the way I promised him I would last night. But when I return to my condo, the emptiness is glaring.
It’s lonely.
In a place that, up until yesterday, I loved to be alone in, even craved its solitude, today I don’t. Today I want him to be here too.
